I’ve had Al the Aloe Plant for about five years. I bought him at grocery store in upper Manhattan. He was a quiet little plant, kept to himself, and essentially thrived on neglect. But recently, Al has gotten a little… unruly. I think he was over-watered while I was away these past few months. Not in a sickly, drowning way, but in a “SO THIS IS WHAT IT MEANS TO BE LIVING!” way.
Now I find myself lying awake at night, listening for the sound of my aloe plant dragging itself off the shelf with its newfound goal of world domination.
I think if I left a jar next to Al overnight, it’d be open the next morning.